


Talk Awkward To Me

by perfect_plan



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Phone Sex, Sex Work, ticking all the trope boxes, very awkard phone sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 14:18:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17623985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfect_plan/pseuds/perfect_plan
Summary: Steve Rogers + drunk + depressing movies + phone sex line = as you would expect.





	Talk Awkward To Me

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic back in 2015 and hit a brick wall with it but had a sizable enough chunk written that I didn't want to waste it. I know little to nothing about phone sex lines besides hilarious old TV ads so a lot of this is made up. I hope it's enjoyable none the less.
> 
> Apologies for any mistakes but work has been insane and I wanted to get this out and will edit as I read it back later. Thank you again for any comments and kudos; I appreciate every single one.

If anyone had told Steve that he'd end up calling a phone sex line at some point in his life, he would have laughed at them and said, no way. No way in _hell_. But it's funny how things work out when you're having a _really_ bad week.

*

"Tony, what the...?" Steve said as he looked at the business card he had just been handed.

Tony held up his hands. "Now, don't be mad. It's just for back-up or whatever. They're actually really good."

"For three bucks a _minute_ I would fucking hope so!"

“They’re kind of a specialist thing, hipster phone sex. You’d like it.”

Steve shook his head. “Who even does this these days any more? You know there’s free porn on the internet.”

Tony smirked. “I just figured this would be more up your street.”

Steve tossed the card on the table and took an angry swig of his beer. "Thanks Tony, but I'd rather you didn't try and help me get laid. I can do that on my own."

"Look, don't get all defensive, Shorty. It would just be nice if you could let off some steam once in a while and - "

Steve shook his head. "You know I don't do casual sex so why do you keep pushing it?"

Tony waved the card in Steve's face again. "This isn't _casual_ sex, it's _phone_ sex. It's basically you jerking off while someone talks dirty to you and you never have to look anyone in the eye and then awkwardly make them breakfast before kicking them out of your apartment in the morning."

"Awesome. I can see why _you_ like it so much." Steve hated it when Tony decided it was his mission to poke his nose into his sex life. "Look, can we drop it? I know I've had a...dry spell but I'm looking for a long-term relationship, not a fling or some stranger on a phone heavy breathing in my ear. And I can jerk myself off no problem."

Tony threw back his head and laughed loud, getting a few looks from people in the bar. "Fling! Oh, Rogers. You're so cute. Fine. Whatever." He leaned back and chuckled to himself again.

When Steve got up to go to the bathroom, Tony slipped the card into Steve's jacket pocket.

*

Steve's week started out badly and by Friday, it was safe to say that he was feeling like a piece of shit. On Monday he went on a blind date and the guy ditched him halfway through the meal and left him with the bill. On Tuesday, he was called in to sub for a teacher out sick at a local high school and it wasn't like he was _expecting_ the kids to be interested in their history lesson but he spent most of his time in class trying to stop them from asking him how old he was and that he was actually over 25. On Wednesday he had to try and teach all of his classes with "Mr Rogers: Super Twink" written on the whiteboard behind him in permanent marker. On Thursday he went out on another date with a really nice girl and he thought it had been going well until she stopped him mid-way through the conversation and told him that this just wasn't working out for her. That had somehow stung more than the guy just leaving on Monday's date.

He was about ready to give up on Friday and just stay in all weekend. Usually Steve was a positive person; he looked on the bright side as often as he could and while he accepted that he wasn't most people's idea of a catch - 5"4 and weighing 95lbs on a good day - he knew he wasn't _hideous_ but he always had to work that little bit harder to make an impression on people. He also knew that was why Tony had decided to try and "help" him by trying to push him into things like phone sex. He knew Tony's heart was in the right place; as arrogant as he could be, he cared about his friends but there was always a slight aftertaste of pity when it came to Tony and if there was one thing Steve couldn't stand, it was pity.

He regretted being talked into going out on Friday night a lot sooner than he thought because Tony said five words to him before he was off and talking to some girl at the other end of the bar and Steve was pretty much left on his own. He downed his drink and tried not to feel sorry for himself but the longer he sat there at the bar watching everybody else have a good time, the angrier he got and all he wanted to do was go home and sulk. He felt he could justify some prime sulking time because this entire week had officially sucked.

 _Fuck this_ , he finally thought to himself and left without saying good-bye to Tony.

He was trying to decide whether to walk home or get a cab when he heard someone call his name. He turned around and Clint was standing with a few other people Steve didn't know just outside of the bar.

"Hey, are you leaving already? It's not even 9pm!"

Steve smiled at Clint wanly. "You know those weeks where everything and everyone seems determined to kick you in the teeth? I'm throwing in the towel before something happens and I actually _do_ wind up getting kicked in the teeth."

"That bad, huh?"

Steve nodded. "Yep. I think I'm going to go home and feel sorry for myself. Maybe watch a depressing movie."

"Drink alone in the dark?" Clint offered.

"Now you're talking. I haven't opened that bottle of Jack Daniels Sam gave me yet..."

Clint clapped him on the shoulder. "Dude, are you _sure_ I can't convince you to stay? I'll even buy your drinks for the rest of the night."

Steve smiled. "Thanks but I'm beat. Although if that offer still stands next week..."

"Pfffttt, not likely. One night only deal."

Steve laughed and gave him the finger, deciding to walk home so he could wallow for a little bit longer.

*

He got back to his apartment and emptied his jacket pockets onto the coffee table - phone, wallet, a bunch of receipts that he'd sort through later. He turned on the TV and went into the kitchen and actually did end up cracking open the bottle of Jack Daniels that had been in his kitchen cupboard for weeks, splashing an inch or two of diet coke into a glass before topping it up generously with the alcohol. Steve wasn't usually a big drinker - he liked a few beers when he was out with his friends - but tonight he just wanted to forget all about this crappy week and zone out and if that meant getting shit-faced, then so be it. It's not like he did it often. He clicked on Netflix and searched through his list of movies for something to watch. He settled on Melancholia, a film he'd been meaning to see for a while and took a large and not particularly pleasant gulp of his drink wincing slightly as it burned on the way down, the small amount of diet coke he'd added to his glass doing little to take the edge off.

*

Just over two hours later, Steve was a mess. Why the fuck had he decided to watch that movie?! He was pretty smashed after having downed two and a half glasses of the Jack Daniels and the meagre measure of diet coke and now he was totally depressed. Stupid fucking Lars von Trier. Stupid fucking week with it's terrible dates and horrible high school kids and stupid Tony making him go out when he didn't want to. Steve ran his hands through his hair and let out a frustrated groan, not wanting to stand up quite yet and discover just for sure just how drunk he was. He rested his head back against the couch. He was feeling down and tired and lonely and...yeah, despite the absolutely fucking _miserable_ movie he had just watched, he was horny. He leaned across the coffee table to grab the remote to turn off the TV and glanced down at his wallet and the receipts he had tossed aside and there was something unfamiliar amongst the crumpled papers. He picked it up and looked at it.

Steve's brow creased into an indignant frown and his vision wobbled a little. It was that phone sex business card that Tony had tried to give him. That asshole put it in his pocket when he wasn't looking! He was about to flip the card away but he suddenly wasn't as put off by the idea as he had been last week when Tony had first brought it up. He had intended to get into bed with his laptop and jerk off to some porn but the thought of having someone else there, to be able to interact with someone even if it was just a voice on the phone, made him hesitate. He attempted to try and talk himself out of it; internet porn was free, this was a 1-800 number that cost three bucks a minute. Steve wasn't well-off... but then he wasn't exactly _poor_ either. _You're supposed to be talking yourself_ out _of this_ , he thought. He stared at the card for a few seconds longer and then he was reaching for his phone and his wallet. Loneliness won out over a few measly dollars and he was too drunk to try and think of any more cons.

He fumbled with his credit card and started to dial the number for the line into his phone, his fingers feeling a little too big as he all but mashed the touch screen. He couldn't quite believe he was actually doing this but his head was still clouded enough from the booze to make him go through with it. He sat back and waited to be connected. An automated message started to play talking about terms and conditions and information privacy and blah blah blah before it was asking for his card details. Steve had to concentrate extra hard on inputting the numbers and then the voice was asking him if he wanted a male or a female operator. He chose a male operator. There was a beeping sound for around fifteen seconds and then a click.

"Hey there," a husky but kind of pleasant male voice answered and Steve froze. This was a real person and this was happening.

"Um, hello?" Thankfully he didn't sound slurred.

"Hi," the guy said.

"Uh....hello."

The guy laughed a little. "Alright, there's only so many times I can say hi. How's it going?"

Steve had no idea if he was meant to immediately initiate the dirty talk or if they were going to have some kind of normal conversation first. "Okay, I guess."

"Uh-huh. Looking for some company, right?"

Steve swallowed. "Yes. I mean, it would be...nice."

The guy laughed softly. "Well, Mr Nice, do you want to give me a name?"

"Why do you need my name? Do I...do I _have_ to give you my name?"

"You don't _have_ to but it would be good to have something to shout out when I come."

Steve's breath caught in his throat. God, they hadn't even started the sex-talk yet and already he was kind of...shocked. He felt a little ridiculous; the whole reason he was talking to this person in the first place was to get himself off so it was going to get _really_ filthy pretty soon. What had he expected? There was no time to get nervous now. Especially when this conversation was costing him a small fortune.

He was aware that he hadn't answered yet and quickly tried to think of a name to give; Brett, Jack, Jeff, William, Fred, Tony - ew no, gross, not a friend's name. He panicked.

"Steve. No! No no wait, Grant." _Fucking idiot_. He could have just used his middle name to begin with.

There was more laughter but it wasn't mean, just genuinely amused. "Okay, so we're definitely going with Grant?"

Steve sighed and covered his eyes with one hand. "No, Steve. Steve is fine."

"You've never done this before have you, Steve?"

"No," Steve admitted, his head swimming from the booze. "I've had a really bad week and it's been a while since I...well, _with_ anyone...and I just wanted...to not be alone." His voice broke on the last word and he immediately bit his lip. He hadn't meant for that to happen.

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "My name's Bucky. You don't have to be alone tonight, Steve." His voice was slightly softer than it had been, laced less with deliberate seductiveness.

Steve cleared his throat. "I...so how does this work?"

"You've got a nice voice, Steve." Bucky's own voice had dropped low and he was all business again.

"Thank you."

"I've got my hand on my cock."

Steve tried to process that. He wasn't a prude but the alcohol was making it kind of difficult to think. That and Bucky's breathy tone. "Oh. Okay."

"Do you like _my_ voice, Steve? Does it make you want to touch yourself? God, I'm so hard..." Bucky's breath hitched and Steve thought he could hear shuffling. "Are you hard, Steve?" Bucky seemed to be repeating his name a lot which was...kind of sexy.

"Um...I'm...getting there."

Bucky laughed that soft laugh again. "Well, let's see if we can get you all the way. I want you to stroke yourself."

Steve's breath hitched and he immediately moved his hand to his crotch but then he felt a strange mix of arousal and embarrassment and suddenly the absurdity of what he was doing hit him. He felt laughter rising in his throat and he meant to tell Bucky that he'd changed his mind and this wasn't really what he wanted after all and it had been nice talking to him but instead he burst into tears. Loud, wet, drunk tears.

"Oh hey, woah, come on now," Bucky's voice was no longer low and sexy but normal and...worried, like this had never happened before. "Steve, it's okay. Take a breath."

Steve spluttered down the phone. "I'm sorry! I don't know why I called this number. Tony put the card in my pocket and I was just going to go to bed and jerk off to porn on my computer and now I'm sat on my couch with a person I don't know on my phone and I feel like a fucking idiot and I hate Lars von Trier! Why do I watch his movies when I know I'm going to hate them and the guy is _such_ a dick? But I watch them anyway because...I don’t know! They're depressing and horrible and they make me feel weird and I should have just watched Zoolander like I wanted to but I...I..." He was aware that he sounded kind of hysterical and stopped and took a few gulps of air.

"Okay?" Bucky said and he sounded really confused.

"I shouldn't have done this, I should have just gone to bed. I'm so pathetic. I'm so...why doesn't anyone want me the way I want them?" He choked on a fresh round of tears sounding wrecked, desperate and humiliated all at the same time.

"I'm sure that isn't true," Bucky's voice had dropped a little and there was a sadness to it.

"It is though," Steve sniffled. "It's always been like this. Always." He covered his face with his free hand and sobbed.

"Please don't cry," Bucky said on the other end of the phone. "You've had a lot to drink, haven't you? Things always feel worse when you're drunk. You sound like a nice guy, Steve. I'm not just saying that." He really didn't sound like he was just telling Steve what he wanted to hear any more.

"But you...don't even know me."

Bucky sighed. "I know, but I've been doing this long enough that I can kind of tell what sort of person I'm talking to when I get a call. And you sound like the kind of person who deserves to be cuddled up with someone who cares about you."

Steve's face twisted again. That just made him feel even worse. "I'm so sorry, Bucky. I'm sorry I wasted your time. I'm just gonna go."

Steve pulled the phone away from his ear and the last thing he heard before he hung up was Bucky telling him to wait.

*

Steve blinked his eyes a couple of time, trying to adjust to the daylight streaming in through the living room window. Everything hurt. He was dead. He had to be. That was the only reason he could think of to account for how he was feeling right now. He had woken up with his face smooshed painfully into one of his couch cushions and he was now trying to ease himself back into the world after his one-man bender from the night before. His mouth tasted like he'd downed bleach or something and his head...his head felt like it was about to explode.

Very slowly, Steve sat up. His stomach was roiling but he didn't think he was going to be sick which was a miracle in itself. He tried to remember what had happened last night: He could recall watching Melancholia and getting angry and depressed about it and refilling his glass with more JD. Beyond that...

His eyes felt sore and gritty and he groaned - he had probably cried at some point. Steve didn't cry all that often but when he drank too much he got _very_ emotional. Sam had witnessed one of his drunken crying bouts a couple of years ago and occasionally pressured Steve into talking about his feelings because he never wanted to see the explosion of tears and babbling that was Steven Rogers drunk and emotional ever again.

Steve could still feel the self-pity of the last week in his system along with the alcohol from last night and he let it sting him for a few minutes longer before he decided that enough was enough. He gently eased himself up until he was standing, wavering slightly and waiting for the slow roll of pain and thumping in his head to dull a little. He didn't question why his credit card was out on the coffee table and he didn't notice the business card for the sex-line as it slipped down the side of the couch. He staggered over to the kitchen and drank as much water as he could stomach and then went to have a shower.

*

By late afternoon, he was feeling a little better. He answered some emails from a couple of his community college students because he always made himself available at the weekends and read through the rough proposal for a new part of his class that he wanted to try and run, making notes as he went. When his cell phone rang and the number was withheld, he just assumed it was one of his students.

"Hello?"

"Uh, is this Steve?" He didn't recognise the voice of the guy calling him.

"Yeah, speaking."

There was a pause. "This is Bucky. From last night."

Steve squinted in confusion for a few seconds. Last night? But he hadn't met anyone last night, let alone anyone called _Bucky_. He had come home from the bar, watched a movie whilst drinking alone and then he had...he had...

Last night came flooding back and his eyes widened and his mouth flopped open. _No. No no no no_. He had called a phone sex line. And had started to cry at the guy on the other end.

Steve Rogers had three instances in his twenty-six years on Earth that he counted as being the most embarrassing of his entire life: The time he had passed out in biology class when they had to dissect frogs and he had to be taken to the emergency room because he'd smacked his head on the side of the lab bench as he went down; the time in college when he had fallen asleep during a lecture and had woken up with a boner that everyone had clearly noticed and the time he had accidentally emailed the head of his department one of his Star Trek: Deep Space Nine fan-fics instead of his syllabus. But now he thought he could scrap at least one of those and replace it with calling a sex-line and sobbing to the guy on the other end as soon as he had started to talk dirty to him.

"Hello? Steve?"

Steve finally managed to make his voice work. "How...why are you calling me? How did you get my number?" He already knew the answer to that question. There was no way they wouldn't screen customer phone numbers. He vaguely recalled hearing a bunch of stuff from an automated recording telling him as much. Anger and fear quickly replaced the humiliation.

"I'm sorry, I know it's weird," Bucky was talking quickly. "I'm breaking a million laws by doing this but I just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You sounded...not okay last night."

"I was drunk! I was...lonely and drunk and...and...this is _not_ okay. This is really _not okay_. That call was...that was supposed to be private and you calling me now makes it...it...not okay!" Steve was aware of his voice getting higher and higher.

"I know and I'm sorry," Bucky said again and he was starting to sound panicked himself. "I shouldn't have done this but you just...I felt bad. People don't usually cry like that on a call. Believe me, I hear a lot of weird shit but you sounded so...I'm sorry. This was such a bad idea."

Steve could feel disbelief stirring with the anger and he chuffed out a small harsh laugh. "Do you make a habit of following up on your work calls the next day? Or is it just the most pathetic ones?"

There was a beat before Bucky answered. "We're trained to never take anything personally in this kind of work and I don't. I'd probably go insane if I did. But you sounded so hurt and I was willing to put my job on the line to make sure you _were_ just drunk and that you were alright. I couldn't stop thinking about how bad you sounded for the rest of my shift and I just wanted to check up on you. I don't like hearing people sounding the way you did."

Steve couldn't help but feel oddly touched and he was quiet for a long time, the anger gradually ebbing away. Bucky didn't say anything more, just waited for Steve to speak.

"I'm still not okay with this," he finally said but he had calmed down a little. He didn't think there was anything sinister in Bucky's decision to call him. Maybe he hadn't really thought about calling Steve through all that clearly but he sounded...genuine. Steve was a sucker for honest people and he had a pretty good radar for sensing whether someone was being truthful.

He heard Bucky let out a resigned breath. "If you want to report me, I'll understand. I had no right to use your number like this."

Steve sat back in his chair. This was by far the weirdest thing that had ever happened to him. “I don’t want to report you.”

They were silent for a moment and then Bucky cleared his throat noisily. "Well...I'm glad you're okay. I'll get out of your hair."

"Um, thank you for calling. It was...kind of nice of you, even if I am still a little weirded out."

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re okay,” Bucky said. “Bye, Steve.”

Bucky hung up and Steve stared at his phone for a long time.

 

He was distracted for most of the following couple of weeks; he could just about concentrate on his students and classes but his mind kept going back to the phone call. Not the drunk embarrassing one but the other one. Is that something that people did, what Bucky had done? Steve didn’t think so. He couldn’t deny that it had been...nice. That someone he didn’t even know had cared enough to check up on him, especially after the shitstorm that last week had been.

He was grading papers one evening when Clint called. His eyes were beginning to blur a little so he was grateful for the distraction.

“Hey dude. What up?” Clint said cheerfully.

Steve put aside his papers and stretched his legs out onto the coffee table. “Not much, just working. You?”

“Playing Call Of Duty with Sam. He sucks.” There was a beat and then Clint sniggered. “He can hear me through the headset. He says hi.”

Steve smiled. “Say hi back.”

“You going out on Friday? Me and Stark were thinking of going to that cheesy new club, Ultron’s Inferno.”

Steve rested his head against the back of his couch and stared up at a watermark on the ceiling. “I think I’ll give it a miss this week. I need a break from people.”

Clint chuffed. “You finally realized that humans suck?”

“Something like that.”

“Hang on a sec, Sam’s quitting. Because he’s a _loser_. Heh. He’s so easy to wind up.” There was some shuffling as Clint removed his gaming headset. “So, wanna talk about it? The thing that has you hating people?”

Steve blew out a breath. “Nah. Just a couple of bad dates. Not the kind that would kill a small monkey.”

Clint laughed. “Nerd.”

“You got the reference, that makes you a nerd too. Hey, have you ever, uh, called a sex phone line?”

One thing about Clint was that he never acted like any question was a weird question. He kept things to himself too, unlike Tony and Sam. Tony, because he was a dick. Sam, mainly because he was just terrible at keeping secrets. “A couple of times years ago. Why?”

“Did any of them ever call you back? Like, outside of the sex call?”

“No. I don’t think they’re allowed to do that. Why?”

Steve sighed. “It’s nothing. Just...it’s been a weird week.”

“Well, the offer stands if you want to come out with us. Drop me a text if you change your mind,” Clint said.

“Will do. Thanks, Clint.”

Steve hung up and rubbed his eyes. He went to get up to make something to eat when something caught his eye. He reached into the couch cushion and pulled out the card for the sex-line. He frowned but stared at it for a moment. He sighed and got up, heading for the kitchen. He went over to the trash can to put the card in there but at the last minute stuck it under a magnet on the fridge instead.

*

On Friday night, after having watched Mean Girls for the hundredth time, Steve was at a loss with what to do with himself. He didn’t want to go out but he didn’t want to read or watch any more movies either. Maybe he wanted a snack. Even as he was half-way to the kitchen he knew he couldn’t fool himself any longer. He snatched the sex-line card from the fridge, grabbed a beer and went back to the couch. He wanted to talk to Bucky again; even though he was just a voice on the phone, Steve couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Steve wanted to laugh. The most meaningful connection he’d had with someone for a long time and it was through phone sex that had gone wrong.

Fuck it. He was going to do it. Maybe this time he could actually go through with the sex talk. He was a grown ass man, he could do this.

Before Steve could talk himself out of it, he pulled out his phone and tapped in the number, his heart pounding. He vaguely recalled the recorded options from his sad bender that night and put in his credit card number again. He selected a male operator.

There were some beeps and then a deep gruff voice answered. “Hey there, stranger.” It wasn’t Bucky.

“Oh. Um, hi,” Steve said. What an idiot. Of _course_ they had multiple operators. Bucky wasn’t the only one working for them. “I’m sorry, I’ve changed my mind,” he said quickly and hung up.

Steve groaned and took a swig of beer. Okay; he would give himself five chances and if Bucky wasn’t one of the operators in those five calls, he would rip up the card, forget about this whole thing and then get on with his sad little life.

Bucky answered on the fourth call. “Hey there,” he said and Steve’s heart leapt at the voice.

“H-hi,” Steve said.

“Looking for some company?” Bucky’s voice was playful.

“Yes, um. It’s Steve? The guy who called a couple of weeks ago? The drunk one who cried at you. You called me back.”

There was a deafening silence from the other end of the line.

“Um, hello?” Steve asked.

“Uh, yeah. Steve. Hi,” Bucky finally answered and the deliberate sexiness he put on for his calls was gone, replaced with surprise and amusement. “How are you?”

“Feeling better, thank you. I uh, thought we could give this thing another go. I’m sober this time at least.”

Bucky laughed softly. “How long did it take you to get through to me?”

“Four calls. Well, five. Technically.”

“I’m glad you’re doing okay.” Bucky said.

“Yeah,” Steve said and they fell into an awkward silence.

Bucky finally cleared his throat. “So, are you actually looking to...you know?” Bucky asked.

Steve took a breath. “Yeah, why not. Let’s do this.” He winced at the fake bravado in his voice.

“Alright then,” Bucky said and his voice dropped again. “I wasn’t lying before when I said you had a nice voice.”

“Thanks. You do too,” Steve said, a little too stiffly. “It’s very sexy.” Steve suddenly wished he was very drunk.

“Yeah? You want to listen me talk about what I plan to do to myself while I listen to your nice voice?”

Steve closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on Bucky’s voice. He really did think that Bucky sounded sexy but nothing was happening where it should be. “Okay.”

Bucky laughed softly. “Wow, so convincing. Fine, let’s switch it up a little. Why don’t you tell me what kind of things _you_ like and I’ll get all hot and bothered first?”

Oh god, this was terrible. Steve couldn’t be sexy if he tried. He sighed knowing that this wasn’t going to happen. “Well, I like the History Channel and reading.”

There was silence for a moment before Bucky spoke again. “Okay, you’re really not very good at this.” The huskiness was gone again but he didn’t sound angry. “No offence, but I kind of get the feeling that phone sex isn’t for you.”

“I’m sorry. I should just stick to Porn Hub or something.” Steve sagged back onto the couch.

Bucky chuckled. “I’m more than happy to do all the work here, pal. It’s my job. You can just sit back and relax.”

“Nah, I think I’ll cut my losses.”

Bucky clucked his tongue. “That’s a shame. I like talking to you.”

“You get paid to say that though, right?”

“I’m being honest. I don’t usually speak to people so...”

“Clueless?” Steve offered.

“No, I was going to say sweet. Look, I’m happy to chat just like this but you do realise what this line charges per minute?” Bucky said.

“Yeah, what’s with that?” Steve asked. “Do you really get enough people wanting phone sex with all the internet porn available?”

“You’d be surprised,” Bucky said with a laugh. “Helps me keep my bills paid.”

Steve chewed on his lip. “Um, you could call me back later?”

Bucky was quiet again and Steve already knew what his answer would be. “That’s not a good idea,” he finally said and Steve could have been imagining it but he thought Bucky sounded a little disappointed.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have suggested that; it puts you in an awkward position.”

“I’m sorry but...I need this job and I want to talk to you. I really do.”

Steve let out a sigh. “Well, I can live on Cup Noodles for a week or two. I’ve done it before.” He settled on the couch.

“Are you serious?” Bucky said with a little laugh.

“Do you _have_ to talk dirty to someone? As long as they’re paying, can’t they talk about what they want?”

Bucky made a noise. “I guess? No-one’s ever called this line just to talk. But hey, you’re the customer.”

Steve couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. “I don’t want to get in the way if you actually want to...you know...with someone.”

Bucky laughed again. “I hate to break it to you Steve but I’m a pretty good actor. I’m not always horny and rearing to go.”

“I knew that,” Steve said with a smile as Bucky laughed again.

“You really are too sweet. Okay,” Steve heard him shuffling on the other end of the line, “I’m getting comfy on the couch with a cup of tea. It’s your dime, let’s talk.”

“Tea?” Steve asked.

“Yes, tea. I like tea. Let me guess; you’re drinking beer, right?”

“Only to settle my nerves,” Steve said. “So you work from home?”

“Mmm, I can’t really talk about that. Look, no shop talk okay? No location or really personal stuff. I don’t want to push it. I need this job.”

“Okay, deal. We can talk about movies and books and stuff though, right?”

And they did. For two hours. Now that the heavy breathing and fumbling in his jeans part was out of the window, Steve could be himself and he was enjoying talking to Bucky. He was charming and funny. He liked a lot of the same stuff Steve did. He was super easy to talk to.

“So how does one get into working for a sex phone line, if that’s an okay question to ask?” Steve said. He was lying on his couch, his head resting on his arm.

“Well, one is in college and it just kind of happened. It fits around school and the money isn’t too shabby so one made it work.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

Bucky made a humming sound. “When I’m in the mood. Sometimes it can be pretty hot. But sometimes it’s just acting and wanting to go to bed because you have an early class.”

Steve chuckled. “I admire you. It’s not something I could ever do.”

“I don’t know; talk History Channel to me and I’ll see how turned on I get.”

Steve laughed and rubbed his face. “Ugh, I’d better go. I have an early class too, believe it or not.”

“You’re studying?” Bucky asked.

Steve wondered if this was too much information. “Um, no. I actually teach.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “This is going to cost you a fortune.”

Steve smiled. “It was worth it.”

“Listen, if you wanted to talk again, when you dial the main number, add 77 on the end and you’ll get straight through to me. If I’m not already on a call, that is. Then just keep trying, I guess”

Steve couldn’t stop grinning. “I will. And thank you. For calling me back after my bad night. I don’t think I told you how much I actually appreciated that.”

“You’re welcome,” Bucky said softly and Steve could hear the smile in his voice. “Just no heavy drinking and Lars Von Trier again, okay?”

Steve groaned. “That night will haunt me for the rest of my life.”

Bucky laughed. “Bye, Steve.” He hung up.

Steve rested his phone on his chest and grinned up at the ceiling. Well, that was a most unexpectedly awesome evening.

Tony could _never ever_ find out.

*

To say that Steve had a spring in his step after his calls with Bucky over the next couple of weeks would have been an understatement. He was bouncing. He was positively _floating_. He was teaching better, he was working better, he just _felt_ better. He talked with Bucky three times a week and it was fantastic. It was like they had been friends for years; they’d even managed to sync Netflix a couple of times to watch movies together and although Steve didn’t want to look at his bank balance, it was worth every penny.

“Ugh, what a day,” Bucky huffed one evening when Steve called him. He heard Bucky flop down onto his couch.

“Bad?” Steve asked as he checked on his dinner.

“Yes. A shitstorm. My phone got stolen among other things but I want to forget about it if I can – what are we having for dinner?”

Steve grinned. Bucky said that a lot: What are _we_ drinking, what are _we_ watching. Steve thought that he didn’t even realize that he was doing it but it was nice.

“Macaroni cheese,” Steve said.

Bucky laughed. “Really?”

“You would not laugh if you tasted this, it’s Terry Crews’s recipe and I swear, it’s like edible sex.”

Bucky laughed. “I’ll look it up. If you say it’s good, it must be.”

Steve set his kitchen timer and adjusted the oven temperature and wandered over to his couch. “So come on, tell me about your shitstorm.”

Bucky’s groan was muffled; he must have turned his head into his couch cushion. “I got a shitty grade in class that could effect my whole grade point average and the few calls before you were...not nice guys.”

“Creeps?” Steve asked.

“Let’s just say that I wish everyone was more like you sometimes,” Bucky said softly. “I mean wanting to talk about Star Trek and books and stuff...” he added quickly.

Steve bit his lip. This was so stupid. He couldn’t start to _like like_ Bucky. He was just a voice on the phone. This was his job. Hell, they shouldn’t really even be doing _this_ in the first place; what could possibly come of it?

The kitchen timer went off. Saved by the bell.

Steve jumped up. “Dinner’s ready.”

Bucky chuckled. “Well, I’m going to leave you to it. I need to get back on the sex clock.”

“Okay,” Steve said. “I’ll call in a couple of days?”

“I look forward to it,” Bucky said. “Bye, Steve.”

“Bye, Bucky.”

*

“Do you often question your life choices?” Steve asked Clint the next evening. They were meeting Sam for burgers and drinks at Gauntlet. It was a bit of a bro bar but the food was good.

“Every fuckin’ day,” Clint said. He pointed to the band-aids dotted around his face. “Like why I bothered to try and rescue a cat stuck on the fire escape.”

Steve smiled. “Ungrateful cat.”

Clint took a swig of his beer. “What’s up? You questioning your own life choices?”

Steve started to peel the label carefully off his own beer bottle. “Kind of. Just one of those things that you know is stupid to do but you keep doing it anyway?”

“You just described my entire life,” Clint snorted. “Seriously though: Anything you want to talk about?”

Steve spotted Sam enter the bar. He would be able to talk to Clint about Bucky but he was a little hesitant to include Sam. Sam would immediately tell him he was an idiot and that it was all a horrible idea. “Maybe another time.”

*

Steve huffed as he dropped all of his paperwork on the hall table and slammed his apartment door closed. What a day. Some asshole set off the college fire alarm and now class was set back for a day because of several conflicting stories and ineptitude, Steve thought grimly, and now he had to adjust his whole schedule. It was only Tuesday to boot. He tossed some leftover casserole in the microwave and flopped onto the couch, flicking through Instagram as he waited for his dinner to nuke. He looked at the time: 5:54pm. Bucky wouldn’t be at work until 9:30pm and Steve was already dying to speak to him. He groaned and threw an arm over his eyes, letting his phone drop to the floor.

Why couldn’t he just be a normal guy and use Tinder or begrudgingly let his friends set him up with someone? Why did he have to go and start to like a guy that he’d never even seen before? Would probably never even meet? Where could this possibly go? He deliberately strayed away from answering any of those questions because the fact of it was that he had never met anyone like Bucky and he just wanted…

His dinner beeped.

Steve sighed. He didn’t know what he wanted.

*

“Ugh, thanks for listening to me rant,” Steve said later on. He was on the phone and his laptop was softly playing music. He finally felt relaxed.

“Rant away,” Bucky said. “I’ve done it enough with you. It kind of feels nice to have someone else to talk to about shitty things; my friends tend to eye-roll me most of the time.”

Steve laughed. “I know what you mean. I have one friend who I can talk to but he’s so easy going sometimes it doesn’t feel as satisfying to vent to him.”

“Well, satisfying people is part of my job so I’m glad I could help.”

Steve laughed again. “Maybe not in the way intended, but yes, I’m satisfied.”

“Can I ask you personal question?” Bucky said.

“Sure.”

“Why did you decide to call a sex phone line? That first time, I mean. It wasn’t purely because you were drunk, right?”

Steve sighed. “Because I was lonely and feeling sorry for myself? I’d had a couple of bad dates close together and was feeling kind of low. So self-pity is my answer, I guess. Kind of lame, huh.” He chuckled wryly.

But Bucky didn’t laugh with him. “No, not lame.”

“You do remember me being so pathetic that you called me back to make sure I was okay, right?”

“Of course I do but it wasn’t pathetic. Turns out it was one of the best decisions I ever made. I wouldn’t be talking to you right now if I hadn’t.”

Steve didn’t know what to say for a moment. “You mean that?” he asked.

“Yes,” Bucky answered. “You’re a great guy, Steve. I wish...”

Steve swallowed and grasped his phone tighter. “What, Bucky?”

Bucky was quiet for a long time. “Nothing,” he said finally. “Don’t worry about it. So what are we watching tonight?”

*

Steve said goodbye to the last of his students in his history class at the college and stayed to pack up his things. He turned off the classroom lights when he was done, said goodbye to the folks on the front desk and left.

It was cold but sunny and he decided to walk home for a change, if only to try and clear his head. Bucky was all he could think about. Bucky was everything he wanted in a person and he was just a voice on the phone. For all Steve knew, he could live in Alaska or way up in Northern Canada. He almost wanted to laugh at the situation. _Hey Clint, guess what? I’m falling for a guy who works on a sex phone line._ He didn’t care about Bucky’s job; there was nothing wrong with what he did for a living to support himself. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with it, it was just the whole situation. It would be hilarious if it wasn’t so damned tragic.

*

Later that night, none of it mattered as Steve listened, laughing uncontrollably as Bucky told him tales of his childhood. Steve was curled up in bed with his lamp on, enraptured as Bucky told him of, in his words, his greatest ever feat. A new school guidance councillor had recently been employed at Bucky’s high school. Bucky wasn’t a bad student, far from it, He was a very good student. So good, he often finished his work ahead of everyone else and could be a little disruptive as everyone else had to catch up. This particular day, Bucky was bored as all hell and in a burst of inspiration had managed to convince the shiny new and naive guidance counsellor that he was a Russian exchange student. It wasn’t in his record however, as his father was a despicable Russian oligarch hell bent on making sure his son would not inherit his vast wealth by sending him away. Bucky had acclimated to American life so well, he could mimic the accent to a tee. Of course, he told the counsellor all of this in an impeccable Russian accent. He had managed to keep up this ruse for five visits before being found out and suspended for three days.

“Why did they suspend you?” Steve said, out of breath from laughing.

“Oh some shit like “misleading a school authority.” Not my fault the guidance counsellor was a gullible idiot. My parents were so mad at me.”

“That’s the best story ever.”

“Your turn. Tell me something funny about your childhood,” Bucky said.

Steve snuggled further into his pillow, dozy from laughing and the pleasant sound of Bucky’s voice. “I don’t really have many. I was an exceptionally dull child.”

“I find that very hard to believe,” Bucky said.

“I was! I was just this nerd who lived in the library and had no friends. It wasn’t that everyone hated me or anything, I was just easy to overlook. But there was this one time in sixth grade when I was the most popular kid in school for two whole weeks.”

Bucky snorted. “That’s a very specific time frame.”

“Well, I got popular because of a very specific thing,” Steve said.

“What was it?”

“Pogs.”

“Pogs?” Bucky repeated.

Steve smiled. “Yep, Pogs.”

He heard Bucky shifting on the other end of the phone, getting comfortable. “Okay, I can’t wait to hear where this is going.”

“So Pogs were huge back in sixth grade but I had no interest in them whatsoever. I thought they were the dumbest things ever.”

“Because they _were_.”

“I _know_. Well, everyone else was obsessed with them. Anyway, my aunt and cousin were moving to Canada and my aunt was making my cousin Neil get rid of all of his stuff so they wouldn’t have to lug it all up the country. They came over with boxes of books for me and Neil’s entire Pog collection. You would have thought he was getting a leg amputated or something – he was going crazy, shouting at my aunt and crying and begging her not to give them away. I didn’t really care if he wanted to keep them but I got them anyway. Now, I knew they were popular and Neil’s collection had some rare Pogs in it so I thought...”

Bucky gasped. “You used the Pogs as currency to buy your way into the school elite!”

Steve laughed. “Pretty much. Bucky, I was the fucking king of the school for two whole weeks. It was insane! People were throwing themselves at me to be my friend just because of these stupid disks! It was amazing while it lasted.”

“Why didn’t it last?”

“Another fad took over, who knows what it was. I was back on my own in the library in no time.”

“But...surely you had friends after that?” Bucky asked.

“Nope. I had nothing left to offer.”

Bucky was quiet for a moment. “But...that’s so sad. Why wouldn’t anyone want to be your friend after that?” He sounded so sad.

“It’s okay, Buck. I didn’t mind.”

“That’s not the point. You’re such a great person. It makes my heart hurt.”

Steve rolled onto his back and looked up at the ceiling. After a moment he said, “What are we doing?”

“What do you mean?” Bucky said.

“I like you. I’m not going to pretend that I don’t.”

Bucky was quiet for so long, Steve thought he had hung up on him. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” Bucky said softly. “Steve, this...it’s my job. I...” Steve had never heard him sound so unsure and it gave him a spark of hope and he decided to just go for it.

Steve chewed the inside of his cheek for a second. “I live in New York.”

“Steve, don’t. I can’t...”

“I know,” Steve said quickly. “I know but...I don’t just want you to be a voice on the phone. I like you, Bucky.”

“Steve...”

“Don’t you like me?”

“Of course I like you. I like you _too_ much. This is getting too complicated.”

Steve tried to force down the desperation he could feel rising. “Why does it have to be? We’re two people who like each other. We could -”

“Steve, this is my job and I shouldn’t have started this. I shouldn’t have called you back that day.” Bucky’s voice sounded tight.

“Please don’t say that.” Steve said, his voice choked. He was ruining everything. “I’m sorry I said anything. Please, let’s just forget it and go back to normal.”

Bucky sighed. “Don’t apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong. I need to...I just need to think and step away.”

Steve’s eyes pricked with tears. “Okay. Okay. I guess I’ll speak to you whenever.”

Before he hung up he heard Bucky call his name but it was too late. The one good thing Steve had ever had with another person and he’d wrecked it. One stupid sentence and he’d changed everything between them. He wiped at the tears running down his face. Nothing about what they had was normal. Steve’s credit card could have told him that and he’d been living in some weird fantasy world where he’d put Bucky up on some kind of pedestal.

Good old Steve Rogers. King of the Pogs.

*

“Are you okay, dude?” Clint asked.

They were at Steve’s, eating snacks and watching The Alienist. Usually it would have been Steve’s bag but he couldn’t concentrate.

“Sorry. No, not really. I think I screwed up a friendship.” The word friendship sounded strange. He wasn’t sure he what he and Bucky had was friendship. “Not sure it can be salvaged.”

“Need any help?” Clint said, his brown eyes honest.

Steve smiled. “Nah. I’ll figure it out. Thanks though. Not just for that. You never make me feel like I’m being an idiot.”

Clint put his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Because you aren’t. But I’m here if you need to unload. You’ve been there enough times for me; I own you some back pay.”

Clint had gone though an utterly wretched time when he’d moved to New York and Steve had made sure that Clint had him whenever he needed. “You don’t owe me anything.”

“How about that twenty bucks you leant me?”

Steve smiled and pushed Clint away. “You still owe me that.”

Clint swatted Steve with a cushion. “You’re not my friend.”

*

The next week wasn’t great; Steve couldn’t stop thinking about their last conversation together. He’d run the gamut of feeling upset, guilty, annoyed and angry. Angry that Bucky had reacted the way he had. Then guilty that he had put so much pressure on Bucky. Then angry again because what had Bucky been getting out of their time together? Then he was just sorry and confused that this whole thing had even happened.

It was another week before he decided to call Bucky again.

His heart was pounding as Bucky’s extension started to put him though.

“Hey there,” Bucky answered in his familiar sexy phone voice.

“It’s Steve,” Steve said, working around the lump of nerves that had set up camp in his throat.

“Steve, hi,” Bucky immediately said and Steve was relieved at the sincerity in his voice. “Look, I’m sorry for how I acted...”

“No, I’m sorry. I put this pressure on you to be something to me and it wasn’t fair and I feel terrible about it.”

“I do too. I was such a dick...”

“But I was more of a dick...”

“Steve, I’m so glad you called me. I have a new job. I...I won’t be doing this any more.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. What did that mean? “You do?” was all he managed to say.

“Yeah, my friend has opened her own business and the hours are good. I can also use downtime there to do school work and it’s close to my apartment. I start tomorrow.”

“Wow, congratulations. That sounds amazing. I’m really happy for you.”

“Steve, I like you. I mean, I really like you. I panicked that last time we talked. It was just too...real? I guess I liked that we had _this_ to protect us both but...I like you. I’ve never connected with anyone like this before.”

Steve was so happy he could have cried. “Me too. God, me too! You’re just amazing, Bucky.”

Bucky laughed softly. “You’re the sweetest person I’ve ever met.”

Steve laughed too. “What now?”

“See, that’s the thing,” Bucky said and Steve could hear the excitement in his voice. “I live in New York too and I think we should -”

The phone went dead.

“Bucky? Buck?” Steve said. He looked at his screen: CALL ENDED. “No, no no, Come on.”

He frantically dialled back the sex line and added 77 to the end. All he got was a bunch of beeps. What the hell was happening? He dialled the number without Bucky’s extension.

“Hey there,” said a gruff, not-Bucky voice. Steve thought it sounded familiar; one of the many times he’d called and not got through to Bucky probably. “Looking for some fun?”

“Um, no. I’m trying to get through to Bucky?”

“Who the hell is Bucky? I’m Brock.”

Steve grasped the phone tighter. “He works there? With you? Do you know him?”

“Look pal, we don’t all work in some office with cubicles. You’re wasting my time. You wanna get off or not?”

Steve hung up. This could not be happening. He tried Bucky’s extension but it was the same: Nothing. He scrolled through his calls received to the day that Bucky had checked up on him but it was unknown.

“Shit, fuck!” Steve screamed into his apartment,

What did he do now? Bucky called him that day but...his phone had been stolen, Steve remembered him saying that one time they spoke. Which meant that the phone he used for work wasn’t his personal phone. What had happened? Did he still have his work phone? Steve considered looking for a customer service number or something but then what? They wouldn’t give out their employees personal information. And what the hell would Steve tell them?

“No, come on. Come on, Buck, Tell me you wrote down my number. Tell me you have it somewhere,” Steve stared at his phone, willing it to ring and have Bucky on the other end wanting to meet him in real life.

It didn’t.

*

It was hard to be happy now that Steve knew what it was like to have the one thing he wanted more than anything slip through his fingers. Except it wasn’t a thing. It was Bucky. Funny, kind, amazing Bucky who lived in the same city as him. Steve wasn’t going to kid himself; this wasn’t some romantic comedy. Hoping that he’d run into Bucky was pointless.

So he tried to get on with his life. He worked. He met up with his friends. He tried to pretend that everything was okay. He tried not to think that he was destined to die alone. He tried not to get drunk and watch depressing movies.

Four months later, it stung a little less. Not much, but less.

It was a Friday and Steve had finished work early. Clint was waiting for him in the college courtyard.

“Hey, man. Ready for poker night?”

“As I’ll ever be. I’m ready to lose all of my money and dignity,” Steve said as they started walking. It was a nice afternoon and the light breeze was pleasant.

Clint laughed. “We’ll have beer and food. Who needs dignity?”

They were playing poker with Sam and Tony for their monthly poker game. It was Sam’s turn to host which meant that he’d order in from his favorite Indian restaurant which Steve liked a lot. The host always paid for the food and Steve was hungry.

“Is it okay if we just swing by this new coffee place when we get off the subway?” Clint asked. “I really need some caffeine and I’m trying to work up the courage to maybe ask out the woman who owns the place. She’s this amazing sarcastic redhead and I’m sure she likes me. Or maybe she pities me. It’s hard to tell.”

“Ah, so much dignity today,” Steve said.

They rode the subway to Sam’s neighbourhood and walked a few blocks down to a small but neat looking coffee place. Steve admired the artsy décor as they stood in line. The place was obviously very popular. Clint glanced anxiously around.

“Dammit, I don’t think she’s in today,” he said, disheartened.

Steve looked at the counter. All he could see was a brown-haired guy taking the drink orders and ringing up food and a brunette girl making the coffee. “Maybe she’s out back?”

They waited their turn and Steve dug around in his bag for his wallet. “I’ll get these. What do you want?”

“Just a grande Americano please,” Clint said grumpily.

Steve took one last look at the board before he was next in line. The guy behind the counter was pretty cute. His name tag said James.

“What can I get you?” he said.

“I’ll have a tall latte and a grande Americano, please.”

The guy behind the counter narrowed his eyes at Steve. “Uh...”

Steve waited for him to say something else. “Um, coffee please?”

James was looking at Steve like he had a really complicated equation written on his forehead. He looked to Clint for assistance but Clint had wandered off to sulk by the windows.

“Look, can I just get my drinks?” Steve said. He wasn’t sure what this guy’s damage was but he was hungry and wanted to just chill out and have a good time with his friends. Anything to distract him from thinking about Bucky.

“Yeah...uh...eight seventy-five.” James shouted the order to the brunette, his eyes never leaving Steve’s. Steve was starting to feel very uncomfortable. “Name?”

“Steve.”

James squawked and threw Steve’s money into the till. “Darcy, I need a break right now! I’ll send Scott out!” And then he ran away.

Steve shook his head and went to the other end of the counter to wait for his drinks. The girl, Darcy, gave him an apologetic shrug.

“What was all that about?” Clint said when their orders were called collected and they were out on the street.

“I have no idea,” Steve said. “I obviously rubbed the guy the wrong way or something.”

They were almost a block away when someone shouted behind them.

“Hey!”

Steve and Clint turned around and James, the weirdo from the coffee place, was running towards them red-faced. He skidded to a halt and thrust a paper bag at Steve.

“You forgot these,” he gasped and then turned on his heels and ran back the other way.

“Okay, what the hell?” Clint said with a chuckle. “I’ve been in that place a few times and that guy barely makes a peep.”

Steve, thoroughly confused, opened the bag and peered into it. There were two large cookies and a bunch of napkins in there. “Free cookies.”

“Sweet,” Clint said and they continued walking.

Steve glanced back over his shoulder but James was nowhere to be seen. He shoved the cookies into his bag and wondered what the hell is was about him that made people act like complete idiots.

*

“Sweet!” Tony crowed and scooped up the pile of chips from the middle of the table.

They were three hours into Poker Night and Steve was cleaned out. He groaned.

“Oh well, I lasted longer than I thought I would,” he said and stretched in his chair.

“I’ll hand it to you, Rogers; you have a pretty good poker face,” Tony said.

Sam snorted. “He has a tell visible from space.”

Steve gave Sam the finger and stood up. “Anyone want anything?”

No-one did and while they started on the next hand, Steve went to get himself a drink. They had already eaten three tubs of ice-cream between them but he wanted something sweet. He remembered the free cookies and got them from his bag. As he pulled them out he noticed that one of the napkins at the bottom had writing on it. Steve frowned and pulled it out.

_This is going to sound really strange but I think you’re the guy I spent a good amount of time speaking with on a sex phone line. I’m Bucky._

_If you aren’t the Steve I think you are, please ignore this and please don’t tell my boss._

Steve was frozen. James was Bucky? _James was Bucky?_ This couldn’t be real, could it? But here it was right in front of him. It kept repeating itself in his head. James was Bucky. He lived in New York. He had left the phone line to work at his friend’s business. It was real. His eyes widened as he played back everything had said. The inflections in his voice, the pitch. It was him. 

“Oh my god,” he said, loudly enough and strangely enough for everyone to turn around.

“Steve? What is it?” Clint asked, frowning.

Steve waved the napkin in their direction, his heart hammering in his chest. “Bucky! James from the coffee place is Bucky!”

The three men at the table all looked equally confused. 

“Who’s Bucky?” Sam asked.

Steve was starting to get frantically excited. “Bucky! The guy I’ve been talking to on a sex phone line for the last three months! He’s here in New York and...I think we like each other!”

Tony had been in the process of drinking his beer as Steve said all of this and rather than do a comedy spit-take, he inhaled and started to choke instead, turning purple whilst pointing at Steve, obviously incensed that he couldn’t breathe enough to rip Steve a new one for this fantastic new piece of information.

Sam stared at Steve. “You...what?”

Steve took a deep breath and told them everything. They watched him wide-eyed and when he finished, there was silence. Even Tony, recovered from his choking, had nothing to say.

“So...am I crazy? Is this crazy?” Steve said, still clutching the napkin message tightly.

“Yes,” Sam and Clint answered together.

“No,” Tony said and everyone looked at him. “Whatever your intention was calling that phone line, something great happened. You connected with someone. I say go for it.”

“Are _you_ crazy?” Sam said.

“Well, I gave him the number.”

Sam sighed. “Of course you did.”

“It’s crazy, yes,” Clint said, “but what harm could it do to meet? He doesn’t work there any more so no weird caller-callee thing.”

“But what if we just clicked more as voices on the phone?” Steve said.

“Then that’s that, I guess.”

Sam shook his head. “Only you, Steve.”

“Leave him alone,” Tony said. “Steve, three months is a long time to date someone...”

“We weren’t dating. Were we?”

“You got to know each other, you like each other romantically I’m guessing, so yeah. That’s dating. Just meet him. Don’t overthink this.”

Sam stared at him. “You are the _last_ person I expected to be all for this.”

Tony shrugged. “If I hadn’t nearly drowned I would have laughed forever but how often do you ever really meet someone amazing? Steve just happened to do it on a kinky sex line.”

Sam glanced at Steve. “Did you-”

“No, we never got around to it,” Steve said, blushing.

Sam groaned and then laughed. “How much more Steve can you get?” He put an arm across Steve’s shoulder. “I honestly have no idea what to say to all of this so I’ll just agree. Go and meet him. You already know him.”

Steve couldn’t help but grin as he looked at the napkin again. “Yeah. Yeah, I will.”

*

Steve had no idea what to expect when he walked through the door to the coffee shop the next day. Bucky was there behind the counter and froze when Steve walked in. Steve stayed by the door and raised his hand, smiling shyly. Bucky muttered something to the redhead next to him and she glanced up at Steve and smiled. She nodded and Bucky turned back to Steve holding up a finger. _One minute_. Steve nodded and Bucky hurried out to the back.

Steve sat down at one of the empty tables and texted Clint.

STEVE: The woman you like is working right now.

CLINT: Have you met up with Bucky yet??

STEVE: Just about to. Wish me luck.

CLINT: I can’t find the eggplant emoji.

“Steve?”

Steve looked up at the familiar voice. Bucky was there, wearing his jacket. He bit his lip and nervously tucked his hair behind his ear. He was so handsome. Steve was floored for a moment, willing down the wave of self-consciousness that threatened to rise.

“Bucky. Hi.” Steve smiled despite his nerves.

Bucky smiled back and oh man. What a smile. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Sure. Are you on a break?

“I’ve got the rest of the day off. Extenuating circumstances.”

Steve grinned harder and nodded. They walked a few blocks and crossed the street to a park where they ambled.

“I can’t believe this,” Steve said finally.

“Me neither,” Bucky said and his eyes sparkled. “Yesterday when I heard your voice it was like...I couldn’t believe it.”

“I still can’t,” Steve said.

“You’re so cute,” Bucky said and immediately went red. “I mean, I thought you were cute on the phone but you’re...shit, you are _really_ cute.”

Steve laughed. “You’re gorgeous.”

They both laughed and found a bench. Their knees touched when they sat down.

“So the company cut me off early that night and I didn’t have your number. I’m sorry. I should have just broken the rules but I’ve had issues in the past that could jeopardise employment and I didn’t want to risk it.” Bucky stared down at his lap miserably. “I should have risked it.”

“It’s not your fault. Nothing about this is exactly conventional. We’re here now.” Steve felt strangely calm and...well, happy. It didn’t feel weird being here with Bucky.

Bucky looked up and smiled. It was like he couldn’t get enough of staring at Steve. “At least we don’t have many blanks to fill in. I’d say we know each other pretty well. The only stuff we really need to find out about each other was data protected.”

Steve laughed. “That’s true. So is this technically our first real date?”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Bucky said, still grinning. “Although there’s one thing I really want to do that I couldn’t do over the phone.”

Steve swallowed. “What?”

Bucky leaned over and kissed Steve softly on the lips.

It was perfect.

*

Steve shifted again on his bed, getting comfy. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

Bucky chuckled on the other end of the phone. “Well, you never really got your money’s worth with all of those calls. Besides, it was your idea.”

“I know, I know. Just don’t expect me to be any good at this.”

“Steve, we’ve been dating for four months and we haven’t exactly been monks. Having phone sex is just for fun. Don’t overthink it.”

“Why do people keep telling me that?” Steve grumbled. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Cool.” Bucky cleared his throat. “Hey there,” he drawled in his phone sex voice and okay, Steve thought that this might actually work. That voice did all kinds of things for him now.

“Hey,” he answered.

“Want to have some fun?”

Steve grinned.

 

 

 

 


End file.
